Paradise is Purgatory
by LovelyFarron
Summary: Her life had never been her own, had never belonged to him or herself, but rather had rested in the hands of whatever it was that oversaw the universe. He wanted to shoot it, whatever it was. He wanted to make some more calibrations, find an error in the fabric of reality, but he knew that it could not be done. Post ME 3.


Game: Mass Effect

Pairing: Garrus/Fem!Shep

Genre: Angst/Romance

Rating: T

A/N: Post Mass Effect 3

Paradise is Purgatory

Somewhere warm and tropical. That was what Garrus had wanted. Maybe it was odd for someone as relatively youthful as him to think about retiring so early on in what was a distinguished and unusual military career, but he felt like he had seen enough fighting and bloodshed to last several lifetimes. That was why he had wanted to go somewhere where it was peaceful, a place secluded where news of the galaxy's problems couldn't reach him. He wanted to hide away from nosey reporters, from politicians trying to buy his favor. He wanted to get over the blank stares of his fallen comrades, wanted to mourn them in his own way without being made a public spectacle about it or be criticized for not mourning them in the way others thought he should. He wanted it all to end, to let new heroes arise and take over where his generation had left off. He wouldn't live forever after all, and if the galaxy couldn't learn to function when he was gone, well…

The sand shifted beneath his taloned feet, creeping over the tough metal skin as he sunk slightly. Raising an arm above his head, he shielded his eyes as he looked up at the bright sun that hung in the sky, sharing its warmth with the beings that inhabited the planet. Lush vegetation dotted the landscape, taking root in the soil that was more nutritious than the sand he was standing in. A few brave trees that he recognized as belonging to Earth were separated from the rest of the greenery and in the sand and he admired them for their hardiness. They were tough and could thrive where others could not, just like _her_…

His mandibles flared slightly at the thought of _her_, of that brave, brave woman that seemed to have an endless supply of courage and luck. She was there, in his mind's eye, but for some reason he was having trouble grasping the concept of her, of cementing her solidly inside his head. She was a thought that was coming to him and then slowly retreating away, much like the water the waves pushed water upon the beach. It was frustrating.

He shook his head, mandibles still twitching as his state of irritation continued.

He wasn't sure how he had gotten there, or even where he was, but for some reason he didn't care. There was a surreal feeling to the place, like it wasn't real or he wasn't real, but some reason it didn't unsettle him. He wondered vaguely is he was dead but figured that that couldn't be it, because if he was then he wouldn't be there but rather somewhere else, although where that else was he couldn't remember.

He let out a sigh as he began to walk. He wasn't sure where to go, but something was telling him to move so he was moving. The warm breeze swept across the land, brushing against him. He could feel it where his skin was more sensitive but other than that, he felt nothing. Not for the first time, he wondered what it would be like to feel everything and not have to get by with the little sensitivity to touch that all Turians were born with. Of course, they felt pain quite acutely, especially if they were blasted with a missile—and here he touched the side of his face where it was artificial graft—but that was because the hard exterior, their shell, had been penetrated.

Perhaps that was why he had been so attracted to _her_, whoever _her_ was…

His brow creased slightly as the memory of whoever it was he was trying to remember slipped away again. Dammit, why couldn't he remember? She was someone important to him, someone that meant more to him than anyone had or ever would, so why was she refusing to be remembered? Why couldn't his mind conjure up those times he knew so well?

She, whoever she was, was different than him. Human. Soft, malleable flesh that he had had endless fascination with. Others in his species still mocked the humans, criticized them for that weakness of having such a pliable covering. He, however, found himself envying it. They could feel—really feel—and he could only watch with greedy eyes as they flaunted their ability to experience the sense of touching in front of him. In all honesty, Turian flesh probably wasn't any stronger than a human's as the metal plating did not grant them any sort of immunity to bullets and energy bolts, but that did not seem to matter to his kind.

He was an anomaly he supposed, when it came to Turians. While most no longer hated the humans or held them in high disdain as they had during and immediately after the First Contact War, there was still bad blood between them. Lots of bad blood. But for some reason, that hadn't mattered to him or to this person he was trying so desperately to remember…

She had never let the actions of the past influence her decisions or judgments about individuals. What was done was done; both sides had been wrong and ignorant. It had been sad, all that had happened, but it was done with. Why bring it up? Let it continue to taint what could be a harmonious and beneficial relationship?

He chuckled softly to himself. That much he could remember about her. She was no-nonsense, no bull shit. She didn't make up her mind about an entire species based solely on what they had done but on what they were doing, on the individuals that she had met. She wasn't foolish enough as to forget everything that had been done but she didn't let it stop her from moving forward and forging new alliances, new friendships. The galaxy needed more like her. But she was unique, special, irreplaceable, one of a kind.

And she was his.

The thought startled him, making his brow rise a bit and his mandibles flare. What gave him the right to think that? Out of all the memories he had, that was the thought he had remembered?

He sighed and shook his head, a bit disgusted with himself, as his mind tried to follow the pajak trail it was on.

A sudden, sharp squeal of what could only be laughter caught his attention and his head snapped up, eyes wide and questioning. What had that been?

He squinted his eyes, noting for the first time that his visor was not on which was quite unusual for him, as two figures moved in the distance. Curious as to who it was that had invaded this private sanctuary of his, he kept moving in their direction and soon the two objects he had been observing began to take a definitive shape.

The first one to come into focus was the smallest of the two, perhaps not being much bigger than three feet tall. It was a lively little thing, whatever it was, as his eyes had difficulty in tracking it as it darted around, laughing.

He frowned, not quite sure what species the little thing was. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, although he assumed that it was female based on the attire it wore. An ill-fitting one piece suit for human children clung to its frame, the torso section being very loose. Her hips were sharp, jutting out like a Turian's, and covered in a pinkish-silver color, an interesting texture to the flesh that suggested that parts of it were metallic in nature while other parts were softer and closer to human flesh. The same was to be said for the rest of her body actually, as the same weird fleshy metal covered her arms, feet, and hands.

Speaking of her feet and hands…

He counted five fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot, each tipped with sharp talon-like nails.

His electric blue eyes next traveled up her body, taking note of the half-formed enlarged collarbone that was eerily reminiscent of how his had appeared in his youth. Her face was perhaps the most interesting aspect of her strange body though; the sides of her face had the outlining of something like mandibles that had never separated from the rest of the flesh, and her brow was crested slightly like a Turian's, stopping just before it could crest over her skull and hair like that of a human's flowing freely where it ended. Her eyes, nose, and mouth were all human, though the coloring of the eyes was that of a Turian's.

He tilted his head, his study of the strange child coming to an end as she continued to prance around in front of him, completely oblivious that he was watching her.

Just what in the Mass Relay was she…?

"Looks like your father's finally back. Why don't you go bring him to your mother?"

Blinking in surprise, Garrus looked up in time to see the small thing run at him. He stood frozen in place, not sure what was going on. That voice…but it couldn't be…

The strange child didn't seem to be afraid of him in the slightest, shrieking in delight as it ran over to him and took one of his large taloned fingers in her tiny hand.

He looked down at her, his mind drawing a blank on what to do.

What was going on? Had he lost his mind? What, with the remembering yet not remembering of that one person, the appearance of this being that appeared to be some cross-species baby of a human and a Turian, being called her father…Yes, he was certain he was finally cracking at long last, that the burden that he had never asked for but accepted all the same was finally getting to him, making him forget what was true and hallucinate what was false.

_Well, if this really is a hallucination, it can't hurt to go along with it I suppose. And if it's not…_

A thrill ran through him as the consideration that this might be real ran through his brain. Was it possible? Was he able to get a happy ending? But then why couldn't he remember? Why was he lost?

"Come on, dad. Mom's waiting."

Numbly, he followed her, allowing her to pull him along with her feeble strength. It would have been cute if he wasn't certain that he was mad and he hoped that whoever he was being pulled to—her mother, his _mate_—would know. Something told him that this person would be _her_, that that was why this child had _her _scent, why her hair was that color that had come to be his favorite.

The next person was now in view and he narrowed his eyes, his keen eyesight taking the figure in and—

His voice was suddenly stolen from him, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak, mandibles doing a dance.

Shepard.

That was who he had been trying to remember, the ghost that he had been trying to catch.

Shepard.

She was just as he had remembered her, as he had ordered her to come back to him, even though she was his commanding officer. She was whole and well, her warm eyes welcoming, her smile calming. There wasn't a scratch or scar on her, despite the trauma she had undoubtedly gone through when she had—

No.

She was here. She was alive.

The child—_his _child—seemed to pick up on his feelings of discomfort and after a nod from Shepard, she let go of his claw and ran off to do whatever it was she had been doing before she had been sent to fetch him.

He just stood there for a few minutes, staring at her.

This was impossible, couldn't be real. She had…had…

"Garrus."

He swallowed hard again and ducked his head.

He was being stupid. Here she was, here they were. With their child. On the warm tropical place he'd wanted to retire to, living off of the royalties as the mass media romanticized their adventures…Why should he question this? Why did everything seem so ok and so wrong at the same time? He couldn't remember how they'd gotten there, what he'd been doing for the past several years, or even the birth of his own child. But did all that really matter? Maybe he'd bumped his head?

Shepard tilted her head, his heart hammering away inside his exoskeleton chest. She was looking at him in that way she always did when he was doing something that amused her. That small quirk of her lips, the jovial spark in her eyes…He hadn't realized just how much he'd been missing it.

"What's wrong Garrus?"

He shook his head, his mouth and mandibles moving in the Turian equivalent of a smile.

"Nothing. It's…nothing," he said, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, incredulity written across her fair face, and he was reminded just how much she could read him despite his alien features. Turians were a bit harder to read than humans, especially to members of other species, but she had learned his little idiosyncrasies quite well.

She sighed and stood up, brushing the sand off of her bottom. She had been half-sitting on the sandy beach and half on a red towel, various toys that belonged to both species present.

"Garrus, I know you better than that. Come on," she said softly, eyes going soft as she got closer.

He watched, his mind dead as her soft human hands came to rest on his bare chest. He wished vehemently at that moment that he could feel her touch more and cursed the conditions on his world that had led to his specie's evolution.

"Tell me what's on your mind."

He never could deny a request from her.

"I just…" he let out a sigh, the muscles in his face working subtly as he tried to mask his sorrow. He looked around at the tropical paradise, knowing that is wrong but so right at the same time. This was what she deserved, this and more. Putting aside his own contribution to the fight against the Reapers, he hadn't gone through the hell that she had, hadn't been cursed with visions that no one believed, hadn't been spaced, hadn't been brought back to life, hadn't had to do every damn thing that she had. "I can't believe that this is real. That you're real."

He had been hesitant to speak those words; she'd either think he was going crazy—which he probably was—or confirm that he was right, that this was some wonderfully horrible dream and that he was stuck in a galaxy without her.

He remembered it all now, no more memories escaping him. It was cruel, the way it all came back to him with harsh sharpness, but the good times came with the bad and he knew that he could take those bad times because she was alive, because she was here in front of him.

His hand wandered up to her face, running a thick finger along her jawline lovingly. She closed her eyes before and nestled into his palm, and he noticed that a sad look had replaced the concern he had just seen. Not it was his turn to ask questions and be worried; had he said something wrong? Done something he wasn't remembering?

"I'm not real Garrus. This isn't real. None of it is."

Her words shook him to his core, his eyes going wide with shock. He had feared that was the case, but no, it couldn't be, it couldn't…

He found that he could not speak again, a lump having formed in his throat. His mandibles twitched as sorrow arched through him, tearing into his very soul as his worst fears came to light. This was some fantasy of his, constructed from his own desperate mind.

"No, no you can't be gone," he protested weakly, voice heavy and sad. "You can't…this is…" He swallowed hard and looked around, taking in the beautiful beach, the calming waves, soothing breeze, the heavy scent of alien salt tainting the air. He shook his head. "No. This is your happy ending. _Our _happy ending. We found out what a Turian-Human baby looks like. We've settled down in a warm tropical place, this isn't…"

Her lips were suddenly on his mouth, the gesture entirely human in its origin for Turians did not have lips, but its meaning was not lost on him.

She backed away from him after a moment, opening her eyes and looking at him with more love than he had ever seen expressed in another being.

"Shepard…"

"Goodbye, Garrus Vakarian. I love you."

His heart began to beat faster, going so fast he thought and hoped it would burst. He moved towards her even as she continued backing away, both of his hands going to her face to hold it lovingly. He wasn't strong enough to let go, wouldn't be able to deal with the ramifications of what this nightmare-dream would bring. What had he ever done to deserve this? Was it the number of innocents he had killed? Was it because he shot first and asked questions later? Because he had made mistakes? Because he hadn't been strong enough to be there with her at the end?

"Shep-!"

His hands dropped from her face as her skin began to melt away. He watched in horror as the woman he loved began to transform into the human reaper, eyes full of hatred and loathing for all organic life. The flesh he so craved to touch dripped down her body like wax, pooling at her feet as darkness and cold wiring replaced what was once bright and warm.

"SHEPARD!"

He felt a tug on the swim trunks he was wearing and looked down to discover that his child was also melting, becoming distorted beyond recognition as a Reaper emerged from inside her, smiling wickedly at him, taunting him.

_We brought you and Shepard together, _they seemed to say though no words were spoken. _Because of us you met her. Because of us you were placed at her side. Did you really think you be so lucky as to get to keep her? She belongs to us; we are her destroyers as she is ours. She is OURS._

He wanted to scream, to cry out, to run away, but he found that he could not.

Ever so slowly, the thing that had once been Shepard raised her hand, sharp black claws jutting out from her fingertips. Before he knew what was happening, the creature plunged its hand into his chest.

With a start, he woke, heart pounding, mandibles flaring, mind racing. Sweat covered his body, but he didn't care. Only one thing did.

Shepard.

She had sacrificed herself to save the galaxy from the Reapers. She was gone, dead, never to be seen again. He was never to hold her, never to see that fire in her eyes, never to witness her do the impossible. He was never to hear her laugh, to see her smile, to smell her unique human smell, to taste her, to touch her, to just be with her again.

Something twisted painfully inside of him and his hand went to press against his chest as the air from his lungs was stolen. The pain of her loss was crippling, devastating. He wanted to believe that she was still alive, that she was somewhere under the rubble, still alive and kicking. He wanted to hope even when hope hurt so bad.

He wanted to see that Turian-Human baby. He wanted to try to make a new life, he wanted to be the father of her children, biology be damned. He wanted to start a family with her, wanted to wake up and see her sleeping next to him. He wanted her.

He choked on his sorrow, biting back the sob that wanted to escape.

It hurt so bad, the pain inside. The despair he felt, the anger, the inability to move on…it was killing him. The one person who would be able to pull him through something like this was her and she was gone. That brilliant bright light in the galaxy had been snuffed out cruelly. Her life had never been her own, had never belonged to him or herself, but rather had rested in the hands of whatever it was that oversaw the universe. He wanted to shoot it, whatever it was. He wanted to make some more calibrations, find an error in the fabric of reality, but he knew that it could not be done. Still, he wanted to.

The galaxy needed more like her. But she was unique, special, irreplaceable, one of a kind.

And she was gone.


End file.
